


Blankets, Socks, and Pillow Talk: Fics About Fluffy Things

by CleverCatchphrase



Category: Undertale
Genre: Additional Warnings in Author's Notes, Cat, Curtain Fic, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Relationship, Established Relationship, More tags to be added, Nonbinary Frisk, Other, Slice of Life, W.A.F.F., and if you DARE to hold hands then those fingers better not be laced!, any and all slow dancing will be done an arms length apart, domestic life, honestly a stable domestic life living with my friends is my ultimate fantasy, neither of their genders are ever implied, nonbinary chara, sir this is a christian fan fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23006179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CleverCatchphrase/pseuds/CleverCatchphrase
Summary: A collection of one shots about two young adults living on their own, just trying to get by, enjoying small moments of intimacy as they come and go.
Relationships: Chara & Frisk (Undertale), Chara/Frisk (Undertale)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 77





	1. Rest

**Author's Note:**

> One of my new year's resolutions was to write one page of any story every day. So far I've been doing it on these short stories of my otp. I have a few written now, but not all of them are typed/edited yet, but I wanted to start posting them to motivate me to keep going. I appologize in advance if the tense switches a bit within stories, and if the stories themselves are a bit rambly. I just wanted to write about obscure sensations and feelings and went with whatever sounded the best at the time, and I'm not too bothered with consistancy.
> 
> Speaking of consistancy, these shorts _could_ be read in the context of my other series, Of Two Minds, but they do not _have_ to be. My general head canons for the two main characters are pretty similar, Chara's generally the snarky, emotionally constipated one, while Frisk is generally loving and shy, but that's about it. 
> 
> Shorts have no timeline and can be read in any order, as there is no over arching plot or storyline. Have fun~

Frisk wasn’t exactly sure what had caused them to rouse early that Sunday morning. In that hazy half-alert state, their eyes fluttered open in the still pre-dawn dark, registering the blurry undefined décor of their bedroom before even registering that they were conscious. They inhaled short through their nose, expending only enough energy to lift their head above the arc of the pillow to read the time on the nightstand clock. 6:43am. Exhaling in contentment, they lay their head back down.

It wasn’t exactly late, but still too early to truly wake up. They had an hour or so more before they really should consider starting the day, but there was no rush. They nor Chara had any plans or errands today, and if anything did need their attention, it could be put off for a bit. Right now the bed was warm and the covers were soft, and Chara was nestled beside them just perfectly-so, as if they were built to fit against the curve of Frisk’s side. Frisk sighed, letting their eyes slip shut. If they were calm enough, they might be able to just switch off their brain and fall back into blissful unconsciousness. 

It turned out that turning one’s brain off was harder than it sounded. The mind, Frisk was starting to realize, never stopped thinking, much to their annoyance, and now that Frisk was aware, it seemed to be the only thing they could do. And not only that, but even with their eyes shut, the room still wasn’t dark enough, making it impossible for them to fall back asleep.

Frisk opened their eyes a sliver and squinted upwards. The window that was above the head board wasn’t very big, and despite having blinds and a thick curtain over it, a single shaft of sunlight still managed to squeeze its way inside and land directly on their face. The sky was a pale robin’s egg blue, tinted with streaks of pink that signaled the oncoming sunrise. Frisk grunted at the light, and bowed their head to move back into shadow. Not wanting to be reminded about the inevitability of having to eventually get up, Frisk rolled pulled the covers higher and tried to think of something else.

They could have sworn they had heard… _something_ that made them wake up. Had it been a bump or a bang of something falling off a shelf? The creak or groan of the house’s wooden skeleton settling? Maybe they had dreamed it? A noise conjured by their subconscious, mistaken for real as they danced on the edge of sleep and waking. Frisk strained their ears again, but could hear nothing beside the faint breathing of Chara beside them, and if the listened extra hard, the distant whistle of birdsong in the trees outside.

Deciding it was nothing, they let their eyes close once more, readjust their grip on their slumbering partner and let out a contented sigh, just happy to enjoy the moment of stillness, sleeping or not. They steal a peak at Chara, oblivious to the passing of time around them as they wandered through dreams, and Frisk’s heart couldn’t help but flutter. 

Ah, the sanctity of sleep. In many ways it was as if you were surrendering, caving in to your own body’s limitations. Yet in others it was a show of complete trust, becoming vulnerable to the world around you, relying solely on the promise and belief that no harm would come your way in the night while you rested.

Frisk inhaled deep, exhaled slow, and hugged Chara closer, wishing they never had to wake up.

Wait… no, that thought sounded too much like dying, and that was something they and Chara were already too familiar with and did not wish to know again for years to come. Ah, but if only they could freeze time yet still be free to move in the moment. If only they could remove one second out of time and stay there, free of worry, free of responsibility, free of expectation. Only endless rest. The moment was near-perfect for such a wistful dream.

_Ba-thump_

Frisk cracked one eye open. That was definitely a sound they heard this time. Was it the one that had woken them up in the first place? They already knew exactly the source of the noise, and if the thumping hadn’t caused Frisk to spring into action yet, then that meant the next phase was going to be-

“Mrrrrow?”

Frisk sighed--this time in annoyance and not in contentment--and shifted their legs to roll out of bed. If they didn’t open the door quickly, the thumping would turn into scratching and the quiet, polite meows would morph into full-on caterwauls. 

Chara let out a sleepy grunt of protest when Frisk pulls back the covers, their brow creasing in disgust as cold air rudely invites itself in under the blanket. Reflexively, they grab the sheets and snuggle deeper into the mattress.

As carefully ask they can, Frisk swung their legs over the side of the bed and alights silently onto the plush carpet. Standing, they find they can see one black paw sticking out from under the door crack, radiating a terribly forlorn air for a single limb to pull off. Frisk snorted in amusement. 

As silently as they can, Frisk tip-toed over to the door, carefully shifting their weight from foot to foot as not to cause vibration or sound. When they reach the door, they nudge the sad looking toes with a toe of their own. The foot retracts with a hopeful _prrrm?_ and Frisk cracked the door open.

The cat on the other side looks up from washing her chest with a mildly surprised expression that seemed to say “Oh, were you just-so-happening to open this door? And you want me to drop by for a visit? I suppose I could since I’m in the neighborhood.”

Languidly stretching as she stands, the cat sauntered into the room, tail high, clearly letting Frisk know she’s doing them a favor by gracing them with her presence. Suppressing a huff of laughter, Frisk shut the door and stumbled back to bed, their feline companion picking up the pace to stay ahead, lest any other cat find out she _followed_ Frisk back to the bed instead of leading the way like any self-respecting cat should.

Frisk shuffled back under the comforter into their place beside Chara, while the cat carefully picks her way across the sea of feet and knees to be between them both. She bumps Frisk’s shoulder repeatedly with her head with insistent urgency and clawed at the blanket with excessive fervor, like a little archeologist unearthing her first dinosaur. Normally, Frisk would have found it cute if it weren’t for the fact she was also shredding the covers with her claws.

Giving into her demands, Frisk lifted the blanket for her to crawl under, and she did so, rewarding them with a loud and satisfied purr, and curling up under Chara’s chin. Chara sighed in their sleep, and managed to lift a fumbling hand up just far enough to weakly grab at the fur of her leg, unconsciously petting their feline friend out of habit.

Frisk smiled, eyes heavy, and hugged them both close.

 _Now_ the moment was truly perfect. A single impeccable instant that made their heart feel light, being here and now with the ones they loved. The ability to rewind time was awesome in itself, but the ability to freeze time, to stay in this one moment forever, was what Frisk found they longed for more than anything in that minute. To stay here in this brief sliver in time, warm and safe, knowing full well nothing was expected of them today. Tomorrow would come, as it inevitably did, and with it, responsibilities and expectations. But tomorrow could also wait for a change. For now there was rest. For now there was peace. 

Mind finally at ease, Frisk went back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, but where did this cat come from anyway? Does she even have a name? Find out in the next installment, whenever I decide to update this fic, which will happen next time I feel like it.


	2. Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara helps take care of a foster kitten. Frisk is there too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of me adopting a new cat of my own last week, here's the next part! Enjoy!
> 
> Edit: should have probably mentioned this sooner, but there is child abuse and animal death briefly talked about in this short about 3/4ths of the way in.

“No.”

Chara says the word before Frisk even opens their mouth, before Frisk even reveals what’s in the carrier hanging from their hand when they come home from the shelter. Frisk doesn’t need to say anything. Chara can tell what’s coming just from the semi-excited, semi-guilty light in their eyes.

“Whatever it is, we aren’t keeping it. I don’t want it.”

“I didn’t say we were keeping it,” Frisk rebukes, deflating a little at Chara’s jump to conclusions. “I didn’t say anything at all! Work just… had to come home with me today, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but from what I’ve learned from the stories you’ve shared about the other fosters, when work comes home, it has a funny way of never leaving.” Chara points out. They look from the crate to Frisk dubiously, and try to ask their next question without sounding accusatory. “Why you?”

“The mother rejected it,” Frisk said simply, crossing the threshold and placing the carrier on the living room rug. The box makes a pitiful squeak.

“I gathered that much,” Chara said, insouciant to the noise. The crate was small, and the cries coming from inside were exceptionally tiny. The thing couldn’t be more than a few days old. “I meant why did you have to take it? Weren’t there any other foster homes available?”

“Apparently not.” Frisk shrugged. “Spring time seems to be a busy season for people _and_ unaltered strays.”

“You’re not even in the foster program,” Chara points out, crossing their arms as exasperation begins to creep into their nerves. “You’re a volunteer. An _unpaid_ volunteer.”

“Not anymore!” Frisk chirps, producing a stapled packed of printer paper filled with tiny text of legal jargon. “Now I’m an unpaid foster parent! I filled out the paperwork this afternoon so I could take this little girl home today.”

Chara scrunched up their shoulders, trying their best to fight off their every-growing agitation. They didn’t like surprises or change without warning, and they especially didn’t like small animals. Frisk _knew_ this, and to go behind their back and bring home a new-born kitten without so much as a text message to give them a heads up? Frisk would never try to upset Chara on purpose… but then why would they suddenly do this to them?

“I was… literally the only option she had, Chara,” Frisk says quietly, as if reading Chara’s mind like the two of them once could years ago. Or maybe the question was just written all over Chara’s face. “None of the other foster homes had the room, and the shelter didn’t have any available surrogates. The shelter… considered euthanasia, but they wanted to exhaust all their options first. They do everything they can to stay no-kill.

“Look, you don’t have to help me,” Frisk continued when Chara’s shoulders refused to relax. “I’m the one who agreed to take her in, so I’m the one responsible. You don’t have to lift a finger.”

“I know,” Chara mumbles. It comes out harsher than they intend. “Just… how long will it be staying with us?”

“ _She,_ ” Frisk corrected, opening the carrier and reaching inside. “Will need ‘round-the-clock care for at least four weeks.”

The kitten Frisk pulls out is solid black and pathetically small, even by new-born standards. A runt. Its whole body shakes, tiny mouth gaping wide, but barely any sound coming out. Its eyes aren’t even open.

Chara’s body softens just a fraction at the sight of it. It’s so tiny. So fragile. So helpless…

Chara shakes their head, sighing in defeat. Of course Frisk would drop everything to help something so weak and defenseless. And what gave Chara the right to refuse such a vulnerable thing a shot at life before it even had a chance to actually live? They turn away from Frisk.

“Fine,” Chara concedes, not looking at their partner or new temporary pet. “But don’t name it, or you won’t want to get rid of it. And in four weeks, it’s _gone_. No ifs, ands, or buts from you.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Frisk smiles cheerfully. “There’s bound to be space with another family for her then.” 

They put the kitten back in the crate, and swoop Chara up in a hug. “Thanks, Chara,” Frisk says gratefully. “You won’t even notice she’s here. I promise.”

* * *

Frisk was wrong. Chara _did_ notice. They couldn’t help but notice. They noticed every time Frisk checked the cloth-covered water bottles in the carrier, re-heating them to make sure the kitten stayed warm. They noticed every time Frisk had to change out the towel with a clean one, tossing the dirty one in with their own laundry. They noticed how the kitchen was beginning to take on a permanent odor of kitten formula, they noticed how the kitten’s voice seemed to grow stronger and louder every day, crying whenever it wasn’t asleep or a bottle wasn’t in its mouth, and they especially noticed every time they had to get up in the middle of the night in two hour increments for night time feeds. 

To their credit, Frisk tried to be discreet about it, they really did, and Chara couldn’t hold that against them, but even the alarm that sounded as quietly as it could still woke Chara up at ungodly hours, coupled with the jostling of the mattress as Frisk clumsily stumbled out of bed to go grab a baby bottle. 

Chara refused to complain, though. Frisk was doing a Good Thing. A noble thing. No matter how annoying it got, Chara would suck it up. They’d lived (and died) through much worse. It was only for four weeks, and once the kitten was big enough, they’d be sent somewhere else. Until then, they would endure.

The kitten, on the other hand, seemed to have other ideas. No matter how warm Frisk kept their crate, the kitten could never seem to stop shivering. No matter how much it ate, it never seemed to gain weight or grow.

“I can’t tell if I’m doing something wrong,” Frisk had lamented to Chara in one of the rare times the kitten was asleep and not crying at the top of its lungs. “She’s not getting worse, but she certainly isn’t getting bigger either.”

Chara could only shrug sympathetically. With no prior experience, they had no way to gauge how well they were doing, and Frisk began to worry more and more, doting on the kitten nearly every minute of the day.

But by the end of the second week, even Frisk was wearing thin. That, Chara noticed more than anything else, and refused to ignore. They finally had enough on the twelfth night, when Frisk had gone down stairs for the kitten’s midnight feed and hadn’t returned even ninety minutes later. Shivering themselves wake from the lack of Frisk’s body heat, Chara forced themselves to crawl out of bed and investigate. 

They found Frisk at the kitchen table, slumped over and fast asleep with their head on their arms. The jet black kitten huddled up in the cup of Frisk’s hand and the baby bottle rolled halfway across the table top.

Chara was too tired to be annoyed. They only felt sad.

“Hey… wake up,” Chara said softly, stroking Frisk’s cheek. Blearily, Frisk blinked awake.

“Wha? Whassup?” their voice slurs, rubbing sleep from their eyes and swaying where they sit.

“You never came back to bed,” Chara says evenly. “I got worried.”

“Sorry,” Frisk mumbles. “I must’ve fall’n asleep feed’n the kitten.” They squint hard, trying to read the time on the microwave. Chara can’t help but notice the dark circles under Frisk’s eyes. How long had those been there? They didn’t look good on them. 

“Oh, lookit that. Is time for me t’feed her again…” Sleepily they paw at the bottle that’s rolled away from them and miss several times. They lurch for it, fingers slapping the edge and making the bottle spin further away towards Chara’s direction.

Without thinking, Chara catches the bottle before it can fall off the table. Bracing themselves, Chara took a deep breath, not ready for what they were going to say next.

“Frisk, you’ve been running yourself ragged trying to take care of this cat all by yourself. You’ve lost sleep, you don’t relax, and you’re forgetting to eat. I won’t stand by and watch you fall apart anymore.”

“I know, I know,” Frisk apologizes quickly. “S’only for another week an’ a half. I promise-”

“I want to help.”

“What?” Frisk blinks at Chara, studying them hard, as if unsure if they were dreaming.

“I… want to help you,” Chara repeated, sheepishly looking away. God, they felt like such a hypocrite, but they weren’t too proud to change their opinions on a matter, especially if not doing so led to someone they cared about getting hurt. “You’re trying so hard to do this on your own, and I know you’re doing your best, but it’s starting to burn you out. You need to take care of yourself too, you know.”

Frisk didn’t do much more than nod in agreement, before the full weight of Chara’s words caught up to them. Suddenly they looked a lot more lucid.

“Wait, _you_ want to help?” they clarify, sounding more surprised than anything. Chara pointedly chose not to be offended by the reaction. “I thought you didn’t like small animals.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them. They’re just…” Chara’s eyes drift around the room, looking everywhere except where the cat was on the table. “…delicate. But it’s not like I’m asking to take over everything,” They hastily add. “I’ll help you clean its towels and heat its water bottles every once and a while so you don’t have to do everything on your own. I’m tired of watching you run on fumes.”

“I am kinda tired…” Frisk admits, absently petting the kitten. “Do you… think you could help me with the night time feeds so I can get some rest?”

Chara braved a smile for Frisk’s sake. “Gladly,” they agreed.

* * *

The following days offered a steep learning curve for Chara, and Frisk was an adequate teacher. They shared with Chara everything they had learned, and while they were patient, Chara couldn’t help but feel a constant nervousness from Frisk; an anxious kind of neurosis that made them hover and worry over every minute action Chara made.

“Is the formula too hot? Are you holding the bottle at the correct angle? Are the water bottles cold? Do they need to be reheated? I know you just changed her towel twenty minutes ago, but did you stimulate her to go to the bathroom since then? Do they need to be changed again?”

It was beginning to get so bad that it was making Chara on edge, until eventually they got fed up with it all and told Frisk to go take a nap, promising them that if they needed help, they’d come and ask.

The general care for the kitten didn’t turn out to be as bad as Chara expected. Sure, cleaning the soiled towels was disgusting, and waking up three times in the middle of the night was a pain, but it was worth it knowing Frisk was finally catching up on sleep.

Chara found they had to redefine their definition of fragile, though. Despite still being blind and deaf, Chara could tell that the young cat was a solid ball of muscle by how hard it kneaded their arm when nursing (and Christ, its little needle claws were _sharp_ ). It was strange, realizing how much they underestimated the creature’s strength, and it forced Chara to do some serious reflection.

There was a reason Chara did not like small animals; a reason they had not even confessed to Frisk yet, shrouded in bad memories and self-hatred from a lifetime that took place centuries ago, but haunted them still. Back in their oldest life, their first life, when-

_They were fending for themselves, even back then, the smallest child in the class and yet somehow the biggest target when it came to the bullies. Chara remembered how the biggest kids, a group of six or so on any given day, all sneers and missing baby teeth and scraped knees, would single them out each recess and “play” with Chara, because they were different and weird, and fun to kick around as if they were just another kickball from the basket. They remembered how they had been held down by two or three kids while another would twist the skin on their arm or pull at their hair, all the while Chara screamed and threatened to get them back until one of the kids would get tired of their voice and punch them in the gut until they were left gasping and eyes stinging with tears. Chara didn’t bother calling for help, having already learned that no other kid wanted to be on the receiving end the bullies’ “games” and that the teachers wouldn’t lift a finger because their lunch hour was the one time of day they weren’t required to deal with the students and their problems._

_Chara remembered how much they resented the bullies, and the other students too scared to help and the teachers who turned a blind eye because they didn’t care. Chara remembered HATING them all, and how much they fantasied of revenge and payback, and the bitter-sick feeling of helplessness knowing justice would never come because they were too small and weak themselves to truly fight back no matter how much they tried. They wanted to take out their anger and frustration on ANYONE, but knew in the deepest part of their heart it was futile. Even the most docile kids, the ones who just ignored Chara’s existence, were too big and strong to ever challenge, and even if they tried, Chara was certain the teachers would turn around help THOSE “victims” instead of them._

_The only thing Chara was bigger than on the playground were the squirrels and pigeons and occasional stray cat that would cower in the trees when the kids invaded the field after lunch hour. Chara had tried throwing stones at them, only once, after the bullies were done with them for the day, leaving them with a tear in their shirt and dirt in their eyes and mouth. They were repulsed at the weird sense of satisfaction it gave them, terrorizing something smaller and weaker than them for a change, watching them scatter in panic. They hadn’t actually expected to hit any of the animals with their snap-quick reflexes, but when the sparrow they struck in the wing hit the ground, fluttering in lopsided circles until the fear-stress took out its heart, Chara had stood there, stock still and horrified for minutes on end._

_Chara had regretted their action almost instantly, but shivered when they realized in the brief moment before that, they had_ liked _the feeling of power it gave them. No wonder their bullies enjoyed picking on them so much. They had become no better than their tormentors. They had even taken it a step further than their bullies ever dared. So did that make them even worse?_

_Chara was no fool. They had seen documentaries and heard news reports on how serial killers and mass murders started with animals first before they went on to killing indiscriminately. Even if the worst of humanity deserved to be purged, they did not want to go down that slippery slope. Chara dropped the other stones in their hand, and turned their back on the trees, vowing never to touch anything smaller than them ever again._

…And yet, lifetimes later, here they were now, tenderly holding a helpless, defenseless kitten in their lap, relying on Chara for its every need or face starvation and death without it. Had Chara changed at all? Had they improved since then? Had they truly weaned themselves from the addictive pleasure they had once experienced inflicting harm on others? They couldn’t tell. Their own personal opinion would always be biased, and looking back, they _had_ attempted mass genocide on the human race once, so they didn’t have the greatest track record. 

But Frisk had forgiven them. Frisk had said Chara was getting better, and the monsters still said Chara was one of the most compassionate humans they knew. True, none of them knew Chara’s secret, but Chara also knew the monsters and Frisk would not tell Chara things they did not truly believe themselves.

A weird vibration began to spread in Chara’s arm as they stared off absently into space. At first they think their arm is going numb from being still so long, but when the sound accompanying it hits their ears, their eyes fly open. Already on hair-trigger alert, their first thought is the cat in their lap is choking, and despite their promise, Chara’s unintentionally hurt the very thing they said they’d help Frisk care for, but when they snap their head down, they discover something else. 

The kitten is _purring_. On _them_ of all people. It’s the first time since Frisk brought it home that they’ve heard the sound, but it’s deep and strong and very much alive. 

The kitten twitches, turns its head towards Chara, blinks for the very first time, and regards Chara for a long moment. Chara stares back, not daring to breathe. This is the first time the kitten has ever opened its eyes. They’re pale and blue and perfectly alert.

After the minute passes, the kitten closes its eyes once again and snuggles back into the bend of Chara’s elbow, sighing in content. Chara gradually relaxes in steps, utterly confused. Did the kitten trust them that much to purr? Was it just a reflex? Were they thinking too hard about this? Chara didn’t know what to think or feel anymore. But somewhere, deep in their heart, and without them even realizing it, a little seed of affection had started to sprout.

* * *

The third week passed quicker than the last two. Slowly, Chara and Frisk began to wean the kitten off of formula and onto solid food, and gently tried to show her how to use a litterbox. She became much more mobile, much to Chara’s displeasure. No longer willing to stay confined to the crate, Chara let her out to explore the house. She took in the world with wide, fascinated eyes and tried to climb everything she could touch, and Chara found themselves having to stop her from crawling under the sofa, or climbing up the coffee table. They did their best to distract her, entertaining her with bits of string or feathers dropped by birds in their backyard. The kitten especially seemed to love playing with cotton balls, which Chara provided by the bag-full, and watched in amusement as she’d sneak and pounce on them for nearly hours on end.

One morning, shortly after Frisk left for work, Chara discovered the kitten was nowhere to be found. After tearing through the house, searching beneath all the furniture, behind the washing machine and dryer, on top of the bookshelves, and nearly throwing themselves into a panic, Chara raced for the front door, assuming the kitten must have somehow slipped outside after Frisk when they opened it that morning. 

How could they have been so irresponsible? They should have put her back in the crate at night. They knew they should have never offered to help Frisk. They knew they’d ruin this somehow! And now Chara’s gone and lost the very thing they promised to help Frisk care for!

Chara reached for their shoes, only to stop short when they discovered a furry black lump sleeping in their sneaker. The scene was so utterly ridiculous and so relieving that Chara couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Startled by the noise, the kitten jerked awake, and looked around before spotting Chara. She purred happily at the sight of them, uncurled herself from her little nest, and crawled into their lap, where Chara graciously scooped her into their arms. With the worry passed, they could laugh at themselves for the overreaction now. They wish they had taken a picture of her in their shoe before she woke up. Oh well. Maybe next time.

It was later that day, when their emotions had calmed and Chara rested on the couch with the kitten napping by their side, that they noticed something dreadful. They wondered how they never saw it coming, how they never noticed the signs, but now it was too late, and the awful truth reared its ugly head. 

Chara realized that they _liked_ the kitten. They liked how she was so happy to see them, and how she cuddled up in their lap, how she sought them out specifically for attention and pets. Chara found, that even though there were only a few days left before she could be sent to another foster, they didn’t really want to see her go.

“What did you do to me?” Chara scolded the kitten, scratching her behind the ears. The kitten blinked its innocent eyes at Chara, and butted her head into their hand for more pets. “That’s what I thought you little sneak.” Chara sighed, in remorse. They’d need to talk to Frisk about this.

* * *

Frisk came home later that evening, closing the front door with a heavy shove.

“Careful. You’ll wake Felicity.” Chara whispered as Frisk set down their things.

“Who?”

Chara nodded to the couch where they had wrapped up their tennis shoe in a blanket, the kitten asleep back in her new favorite napping spot.

Frisk laughed through their nose. “You named her?”

“Well I can’t keep calling her ‘the kitten’. It’s a mouthful. Besides, she’ll grow out of that eventually.”

“I thought you said not to name her because then it would be harder to say goodbye.”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind,” Chara huffed. They crossed their arms, conscious of the heat rising in their cheeks. They focus on their socks. “That’s what mature adults do, don’t they? Change their opinions on things when they have better information about situations? After taking care of her for the past two weeks, I’ve realized she isn’t so bad.”

“That’s wonderful,” Frisk said with pride, moving in to hug Chara. They study the little ball of fluff twitch in her sleep, smiling with joy. “Felicity is a nice name. How’d you come up with it?”

“What can I say? I like names that start with ‘F’,” Chara smirked. “And… that’s how she makes me feel when I look at her. So… is it okay?”

“Of course it’s okay. I’m sure whoever adopts her will love the name.”

“No,” Chara gently corrects. “Is it okay… if she stays with us? For the next twenty years or so?”

“Oh. Oh!” Frisk’s eyes widen when they realize what Chara was asking. “Yes, of course! I’ve been wanting to adopt a pet for ages, but not until you were ready with the idea.”

“If I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure if I _am_ ready, but…” Chara glanced at the kitten, knowing in their heart, ready or not, she was now a part of their little family of two. “I think I’ll figure out what to do along the way.” 

“And you know what? You won’t do it alone. I’ll be there to help too.” Frisk smiled. They reach down and gently caress her shoulder. The kitten blinked up at them, awakened by the gentle touch. Her eyes met Chara’s and slowly closed again in contentment. She let out a long purr of serenity. 

“Yeah, we can do it together,” Chara smiled as they watched their newest family member exploring her dreams. With Frisk by their side, they _could_ do this. They _were_ ready. 

Their heart swelled with love.

“Welcome home, little one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Up next!: Chara gets sick. Frisk doesn't take it well.


	3. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara gets the flu. Frisk takes care of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer; I wrote this way back in January before you-know-what was a thing. Also, the very fact that there are enough novels and movies out there that "sick lit" is considered its own genre now absolutely disgusts me! :D
> 
> Additional warnings: There's a mention of throwing up about halfway through and allusions to self harm. Nothing in graphic detail though.

It started with a cough at breakfast.

Nothing too alarming- just a one-time action followed by a few harsh grunts to clear the throat. Still it reminded Frisk of something they had been meaning to say.

“Flu season is starting,” they mention off-handedly to Chara, who was busy downing a glass of water to soothe their itchy throat. They hum in acknowledgement. “Don’t forget to get your shot,” Frisk goes on. “The pharmacy in the corner store will give you one for free.”

“I’ll think about it,” Chara rasps, going back to their cereal. Frisk studied them a moment out of the corner of their eye, but let the matter drop. No need to be pushy.

\--

Two weeks later, after the pair had returned from the supermarket with a month’s worth of groceries, Chara found they had to stop half way through restocking the pantry, feeling unusually drained.

“Hey, I think I need to take a break,” they tell Frisk, wiping their brow which was unusually damp. Weird. It wasn’t hot out or anything. “I feel really tired all of the sudden.”

“No problem,” Frisk said, putting the last of the perishables in the fridge and moving to the canned and boxed goods Chara had yet to put away. They stop short and watch Chara warily. They looked pale and clammy.

“Hey, did you ever get your flu shot?” They asked.

“Whoops. Must’ve slipped my mind,” Chara shrugged. “But what do I need one for, anyway? I hardly ever leave the house if I don’t have to.”

“True, but _I_ do. I could accidentally bring the virus back with me. “

“Eh, I’ll be fine.” Chara huffed. “I probably just over exerted myself. I know I’m out of shape and all.”

Frisk wanted to say more, but held back, dancing the line between being nagging out of concern and wanting to trust Chara’s judgement. If Chara said they’d be fine, then they’d be fine. They wanted to believe Chara, and show them that they trusted them. Then again, Chara was never one to care greatly about their own health. They both knew Chara had had self-destructive tendencies in their past, many of which had been exchanged for healthier coping mechanisms in more recent years, but Frisk would be lying if they said they didn't secretly kept watch for a relapse.

“Man, I think I’m gonna turn in early,” Chara mumbled. “If I _am_ getting sick, then a lot of sleep will help.”

Frisk nodded in agreement, and bid Chara goodnight, thoughts wandering. Intentional or not, Frisk always worried on the rare occasions Chara got sick. They knew deep down if they had truly amped up their worry, they could have pressured Chara into getting vaccinated. All it would have taken would have been a quivering voice, a few tears, and Chara would have caved.

But Frisk refused to manipulate Chara that way, no matter how good their intentions were. Chara was an adult. Their choices were their own, and for better or worse, Frisk would respect that. They would not use guilt to get their way. 

But they wouldn’t worry so much if they hadn’t gone down this path before. Quite frankly, no one was innocent.

The last time Chara had gotten ill had resulted in them needing some pretty strong antibiotics, but be it carelessness or stubbornness, Chara kept forgetting to take them. Frisk had harshly chastised them about it, frustratedly reminding them that they’d never get better if they kept “forgetting” to take their medication, and risked the bacteria mutating and getting even sicker. Chara, not one to ever take confrontation well had sarcastically replied with;

“Well, it’s not suicide if it’s illness, is it?”

Shocked, horrified and severely hurt, Frisk’s attitude had done a complete one-eighty, and they found themselves quietly begging Chara to please take it back, to please not say things like that, and please tell them they weren’t serious.

Equally surprised and ashamed at having inadvertently hurt their partner so, the next few hours had been the two of them softly apologizing to one another, taking back what they had said, and making promises to be kinder in the future. 

Neither of them mentioned that confrontation now as they went their separate ways that evening, but they both knew that the other had the memory on their mind.

Chara would be okay, Frisk told themselves. They were young, active enough, and ate well, so Frisk wouldn’t police their personal health since they weren’t even Chara’s doctor. It was fine. Everything would be fine.

\--

That night Chara came down with a fever. 

Frisk woke up a little after one in the morning to violent tremors coming from the other side of the bed, and rolled over to find their partner uncontrollably shivering in the sheets. They watched Chara for a while, heart filling with dread, unsure what to do, when Chara’s eyes blearily opened.

They stared at Frisk, squinting, trying to focus on their face. At last they spoke.

“Frisk… I’m so hot… But I’m shivering? Why am I shivering if I’m so hot?”

“You have a fever,” Frisk explained. They didn’t need a thermometer to know this was true. Even in the low light they could see beads of sweat dotting Chara’s brow and feel the heat radiating off of them from a foot away.

“Oh…” Chara blinked, seemingly mystified at this. Their eyelids drooped, fatigue suddenly stronger than their ferocious shaking. “That’s… not good…” they said drowsily.

“No,” Frisk agreed sadly. “It’s not.” 

“I guess I really did catch the flu.”

“Guess so.” 

They did not say more. They didn’t need to. It did not feel good to be proven right. Frisk found no joy in saying “I told you so”, especially not when Chara was so visibly sick. The only thing Frisk felt now was worry.

Frisk skipped class and called in sick to their part time job the following day. It was fine. Frisk was great at learning on their own. They could just look up the lecture notes online later, and they had plenty of sick days to spare for work. Frisk was determined to be there for Chara in case they needed them, but if Chara even noticed it, they didn’t say. Having shivered themselves to a point beyond exhaustion, Chara’s body had more or less gone into emergency shut down, forcing them to sleep the day away.

Frisk let them, staying by their side, reading or studying in bed while their partner drifted in and out of consciousness, one hand loosely intertwined with theirs. If Frisk was still enough, they could faintly feel the Chara’s pulse in their fingertips, quick but still beating. Still beating and that was all that mattered.

Every couple of hours or so, Chara would briefly wake up in a dazed confusion. First they’d look to the clock, then to Frisk. Upon seeing the latter, they would relax some, before rolling over and falling back asleep.

The fourth time they woke, they fixed Frisk with a hard glare.

“Frisk,” their voice cracked, dry from thirst and sickness. “I’m teleporting.”

“What?”

“I keep… closing my eyes for a few minutes, but every time I open them again, hours have passed.” Chara explained. “I haven’t dreamed at all.”

“The flu will do that to you.” Frisk said calmly. “By the way, how do you feel? You haven’t had anything to eat or drink all day.”

“I don’t feel hungry at all…” Chara whispered, straightforward and honest. “And I’m still so tired…”

“Well, before you go back to sleep, think you can take some meds for me?” Frisk asked. They reach over to their nightstand and show Chara a bottle of over-the-counter flu syrup.

“Okay,” Chara passively agreed, no fight in their body to refuse on pride or principle. Frisk poured the correct dosage while Chara struggled to sit up. They down the medicine in one swig, swaying where they sit. They pull a face.

“That tasted awful.”

“It always does,” Frisk agreed. Apparently the action had taken whatever stores of energy Chara had left in their body, for they don’t even have it in them to make a witty remark. 

Mumbling incoherently, they wiggle back down deeper into the covers and slip once again into sleep.

Frisk sighed, unsure whether to feel hopeful or tense. A few minutes of lucidity was an improvement to the last eighteen hours of unconsciousness, but Chara was far from out of the woods yet. 

\--

Frisk slept light that night, unable to put their mind to rest while Chara coughed and wheezed beside them. Sometime around eleven, Chara awoke, borderline delirious, body burning up from the fever they’d yet to break.

“Frisk… Frisk I’m so sorry,” they whimpered, disorientated, words slurring. “You put up with so much from me and now you gotta put up with this too.”

“I don’t mind,” Frisk said, and it was true. “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t care about you.”

“I should have just gotten the dumb shot when you said so.” Chara sobbed. “Then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Frisk said. “Flu symptoms can take a while to appear. For all we know, you could have already contracted it before I said anything. The shot wouldn’t have helped then either way.”

Chara shook their head, eyes squeezed shut, like they had trouble comprehending. “You’ve missed school for me. You missed work for me. You give up so much for me when you shouldn’t.”

“You’re more important than school or work,” Frisk said, gently squeezing Chara’s hand, trying to drive home the point of their words through sense of touch alone. Even in the dark, Frisk can see Chara’s cheeks were damp from sweat and tears, and were redder than usual.

“I’m always ruining everything,” Chara hiccupped. “And you have to clean up after me. Back then. And now. You shouldn’t even be in the same bed as me. I’ll get you sick too.”

“Hate to disappoint you, but that’s not possible,” Frisk said. “I got my shot a month ago at school. I’m inoculated.” They move their hand up to Chara’s shoulder, and refuse to pull away despite how burning they are to the touch. Chara flinches at the contact, unsure whether to withdraw or move closer. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Just get some rest, okay?”

“I don’t deserve you,” they sigh at last, apparently reassured, and their body uncoils, releasing all their pent-up stress.

Frisk sighed as well, now that the crisis was over. They slowly began to pull away before they stop and consider, then gently place their hand back into Chara’s, giving it a light squeeze. Chara squeezed back, faint, and honestly it could have just been a reflex but both slept a little easier that night knowing the other was never far away.

\--

The following morning Chara woke with a start, practically tumbling out of bed as they staggered with a drunken urgency to the bathroom, clipping their shoulder on the way in.

Frisk roused a few moments later to the sound of Chara retching, followed by the flush of the toilet.

Their stomach swam with dread. Throwing up was bad enough, but Chara had not eaten or drank at all in the last twenty-four hours, and vomiting whatever was left in their system didn’t seem good for their already weakened body.

They kept their eyes fixed on the door frame of the bathroom as the toiled flushed once again, followed by the sound of the tap. Once the water was shut off, Chara returned, knees visibly quaking as they lean on the door frame for support.

“How do you feel?” Frisk asked.

“Like shit,” Chara muttered, staggering back to bed before they all but collapse in it.

Frisk decided to skip school again that day.

Bed ridden again, Chara slept fitfully. Frisk didn’t know how to feel about it. It wasn’t the deep, almost lifeless, comatose sleep they had been in yesterday. Chara certainly was a lot more lucid in their periods of waking, but the little dozing they did manage to get was marred with hacking coughs and labored wheezing.

A tiny unhelpful part of Frisk’s brain graciously decided to remind them then, that often it wasn’t the flu that killed its victims, but secondary infections, like pneumonia, or even a common cold, when the host’s body was more vulnerable with a weakened immune system.

Frisk shoved the thought from their head, calling back to upon their mantra. Chara was going to be _fine_. The sickness would pass and everything was going to be _fine_. They just needed to be there for them, to keep an eye on them, and it would work out okay. 

But still the fear lingered, prowling the corners of their mind like a wolf at the edge of the woods, ready and waiting to gnaw on their doubts. Even Frisk had a hard time believing in their words themselves when they constantly remembered how Chara almost seem to challenge the notion of self-care, vehemently rejecting even basic advice such as dressing warmly or taking vitamins.

In an effort to distract themselves, Frisk got to their feet and hastily headed to the kitchen. As much as they wanted to be by Chara’s side every minute of their recovery, there were steps they could take to actively help Chara get there. Chara needed to eat today, no ifs, ands, or buts about it, and although Chara preferred to do most of the cooking in the household, Frisk was competent enough to heat up a can of soup.

Half an hour later, Frisk returned to the bedroom with a tray of breakfast in bed. Chara blinked awake at the smell of grilled cheese and tomato soup and eyed Frisk in confusion.

“I thought you didn’t approve of food in the bed,” they ask, voice hoarse.

“Normally I don’t, but I don’t think you’re well enough to navigate stairs, so I’ve made an exception.”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” Chara mumbled, grabbing a Kleenex to clear their sinuses.

“Chara,” Frisk pressed, struggling to keep their voice from wavering. No matter how worried they were, they would talk calmly and rationally. “It’s been almost two days since you’ve had any kind of food. You have to eat _something_.”

“But aren’t you supposed to- what was it? ‘Feed a cold, starve a fever’? Isn’t that how the saying goes?”

“That’s just an old wives’ tale,” Frisk sighed, exasperated. “It’s not a good idea to starve yourself for any reason, especially not when your body is trying to fight off an illness.”

With no energy to argue, Chara conceded and struggled to sit up. Frisk gently placed the tray on their lap and took a detour to the bathroom while Chara halfheartedly nibbled at a slice of the grilled cheese. A minute later, Frisk returned with a new dose of the flu medicine in a small plastic cup.

“How is it?” they asked.

“Food is the most disgusting thing mankind has ever invented.” Chara grumbled, their face taking on a green tint.

Frisk held their tongue. They knew this was the sickness talking, making Chara queasy and not wanting to eat for fear of upsetting their stomach. It pained them to watch, almost to the point of tears. They refused to give into emotion. 

“I think I can change your mind on that,” they said after a length. “It’s time for you to take more medicine. Here, drink this then tell me how you feel.”

Frisk passed the cup to Chara who imbibed the medicine without complaint. Their face twisted at the strong, overly-sweet taste, and immediately took a sip of the tomato soup to wash the flavor out of their mouth. After one spoonful, they greedily take several more, as if suddenly aware at how hungry they truly were, and Frisk relaxed just a fraction.

“Thanks, Frisk,” they whisper, shifting the tray to their nightstand. “Not sure how long I’ll be able to keep it down, though. I’m sorry I put you through the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Frisk reassured them. It was an effort not to wine, to keep their voice calm and level when they so desperately wanted to demand Chara not be so hard on themselves. They would not weaponize their concern.

Chara pulled the covers back up, trying to get comfortable. Frisk grabbed their laptop and joined them in the bed. They found themselves having a harder time studying today than yesterday. The hours ticked by, but their mind was elsewhere, and despite the notes in front of them, their eyes kept drifting to the body beside them.

As if feeling their stare, Chara opened their eyes and met Frisk’s gaze. “Hey Frisk? Can I ask you to do something for me?”

Frisk snapped to attention, ready to jump to their feet if for whatever Chara needed. “Yeah?”

“Will you promise me you’ll go to school tomorrow?”

Frisk blinked. They weren’t expecting that. “But… why?”

“Because I don’t like the thought you skipping class for me,” Chara explained. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but college is expensive, and it’s not respectful to the professors who actually try their hardest to teach you, and you not even show up. Don’t throw your tuition away because of me.”

“You’re more important than some dumb letter grade,” Frisk said. “And I can always retake a class.”

“I know, but you’ve done enough for me already. Don’t jeopardize your education. I’ll be fine.”

“But-! But what if you get worse?” Frisk stammered. “You still have a fever, and what if something happens, like you get hurt?”

“I promise not to throw myself down the stairs if you leave,” Chara snorted. “And I feel like the worst is over. If something _does_ happen, I know how to call you.”

Frisk eyed Chara dubiously. Their eyes were sunken and dark, their skin still clammy and pale, their body so frail and feverish. How could they leave Chara when Chara still needed them the most?

“Frisk, if you keep putting me before yourself, I won’t forgive you,” Chara said sternly, as if reading their mind. “I appreciate everything you’ve sacrificed for me. I really do. But I’m not going to die if I’m out of your line of sight.”

“I know, I know…” Frisk sighed. “But… Can we just see how you feel tomorrow morning, and then I’ll decide? Just to make sure you don’t suddenly get worse?”

“Okay,” Chara sighed as well, though far more exasperated. “You have until tomorrow. But if I say I’m fine, then you have to go to school.”

“Deal,” Frisk nodded, happy they could at least come to a compromise, and got ready for bed.

\--

Frisk didn’t dare sleep that night. 

All night long, they kept a silent sentinel beside Chara, one hand resting on theirs, searching for a pulse. Nearly three days later, and their body still burned, but their heart still beat; a tiny truth that didn’t reassure them much.

How could they agree to Chara’s request? When they were still so sick. When they were still so uncertain. But. But they wanted to show they trusted Chara, didn’t they? And if Chara said they’d be fine… but then again, Chara had said they were fine before they got the flu, and look where they were now; barely able to move and struggling to breathe. How could they ever stop taking care of Chara when they didn’t know if Chara was willing to take care of themselves? How could they dare go to sleep if they weren’t sure Chara would make it through the night?

Chara snored, unintentionally inhaled some phlegm, and coughed themselves awake. They squinted at Frisk when they noticed their eyes were open a sliver. 

“You’re still awake?” They asked.

“Can’t sleep.” Frisk said. It was true enough.

“Frisk, you’re gonna be exhausted at school tomorrow.” Chara grumbled. “Please go to bed.”

“But what if you-!” Frisk cut themselves off before their tired mind could admit something they didn’t want Chara to hear. Chara caught it regardless, then noticed Frisk’s hand on their arm. Their brows knit, a thought dawning on them.

Chara had always been sharp and quick to put two and two together. It was one of the qualities Frisk liked most about them. But here, in the dark, Frisk wished Chara wasn’t so perceptive. 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Chara asked quietly.

“Hm?”

“Frisk… do you think I tried to get sick on purpose?”

Frisk’s heart skipped a beat. Their greatest fear put into such simple words. The question they had unknowingly been asking themselves the past two nights and still hadn’t found an answer. It had been driving them stir-crazy, knowing they couldn’t ask it themselves or it would just prove to Chara that Frisk never trusted them, and show Chara that Frisk did use their worry to get their way, and-

Frisk searched Chara’s eyes for any hint of their thoughts. There was no suspicion or anger in their gaze, just plain curiosity.

“Just… answer honestly, please.”

“I… I…” Frisk’s voice hitched, unable to face their own feelings. Tears pricked their eyes. They could never lie to Chara even if they tried. “A little, yeah.”

Chara hummed a little. It was a completely neutral sound with absolutely no resentment behind it but still Frisk felt like the worst person in the world.

“I’m sorry,” Frisk choked.

“No, I can understand why you’d feel that way. It’s not your fault.”

“I just want you to get better,” Frisk sniffed. “But- but I don’t want you to feel like… like I’m trying to _force_ you for my sake.”

“Frisk, I know you wouldn’t do something like that,” Chara told them, brushing one hand along their cheek. “It’s okay to care.”

“I’m just so scared, Chara.” Frisk admitted. “I’m scared if I’m too overbearing, you’ll push me away, and I’m scared that if I give you space, I won’t be able to help you in time if you need it.”

“Frisk, I’d never push you away if I knew it would hurt you,” Chara assured them. “And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel unwanted. You’ve taken such good care of me these last two days. I can’t thank you enough for it.”

“Chara, can I ask you something?” Frisk nervously ventured. They didn’t feel like they deserved to ask this. The question on their mind danced on that line again between concern and control, but they needed to know. “Can you promise me that you’ll stay? That you’ll get better?”

“I promise,” Chara said sincerely, and shifted closer to wrap Frisk in a hug.

Frisk hugged them back. They were still uncomfortably warm, but they were alive and close, and at last Frisk could go to sleep.

\--

Frisk woke up with their arms empty. The two had rolled apart in the night. They flip over to find Chara still in bed, eyes closed, eerily still.

“Chara?” Frisk ventured, holding their breath, and at last Chara opened their eyes and looked at them. Frisk breathed. “How do you feel?”

“I’m so hot,” they say dramatically, placing a hand to their head. Frisk’s heart flip-flopped. Having a fever three days in a row couldn’t be good- “But at least my fever’s gone.”

It isn’t until they see Chara’s waggling eyebrows that Frisk realizes Chara was making a joke. They laugh despite themselves, more out of relief than anything.

“That’s good,” they smile. “I’m glad to hear it.” 

“So am I. Now hurry up and get ready for school, or you’re going to be late.”

Smiling, Frisk got out of bed and got ready without argument. It was clear to them now that everything really _was_ going to be okay, and their worries held no power over them anymore. Little by little, Chara was getting better, and, it occurred to Frisk, that they were too.


	4. Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara has a bad night. Frisk snaps them out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In fan fiction, all roads lead to the bedroom.
> 
> Additional tags include Self-loathing and Angst.

It was well past midnight. The bedroom was dead silent, save for the rhythmic inhales and exhales of Frisk’s breathing, and the faint, slow dripping of the water faucet that never could shut off quite right in the bathroom joined to the master bedroom.

Chara lay wide awake on the mattress, staring vacantly at the ceiling. They had been awake for hours, questioning whether or not they had fallen asleep at all, their mind stuck in a rut of unhelpful thoughts playing on loop. 

It had been a while since the last time they had spiraled so far. Careful self-reflection was often enough to catch themselves thinking self-destructive ideas. Gentle reminders throughout the day and reaffirmations that they were loved and wanted could usually keep the darker thoughts at bay, but in the middle of the night those dark thoughts could roam free, mixing with the darkness of the bedroom, hissing insidious whispers of doubt that got into the cracks of Chara’s soul. 

They look at the clock. 2:02am.

 _Why are you here?_ Chara’s brain thinks at random. 

There’s a dozen ways they could answer that question. Because they put themselves there, because of random chance, because of fate, because the universe really does have a grander scheme going on.

None of these are the answer to what they know in their heart is the true question, so their brain asks it again, more specific this time.

_Why you? Why are you beside them at this moment? Why of all the people in the world, why did Frisk pick you?_

It’s an unfair question, they argue with themselves. Frisk had no say in the matter when Chara woke up with them after their fall onto the bed of golden flowers, irremovably fused to their soul. Frisk hadn’t as much as _chose_ them to be their companion through the Underground. They more or less _put up_ with them until the Royal Scientist had found a way to separate them after their exodus to the surface.

 _But Frisk still wanted you around after you split,_ their brain points out. _What makes you think you deserve it?_

And the thing is, the dark thoughts are _right_. Chara doesn’t deserve this. They don’t deserve Frisk’s love and affection after how bratty and rude they had been to them in the Underground. They don’t deserve Frisk’s patience and forgiveness after the awful things Chara made them do to other monsters out of fear and pain. They don’t even deserve to share the same house, much less the same bed with Frisk, even all these years later, after all the lies they told and atrocities they committed.

A tiny spark of rebellion (or maybe it was just desperation) struggles up from the depths of their mind, screaming at them to remember that the dark thoughts were not true, and that they were lies, and they could simply ask Frisk, and Frisk would prove them wrong. But Chara found the notion near impossible to act upon. They couldn’t bring themselves to wake up their partner in the middle of the night simply because they were having misgivings.

Regardless, they turn to their side. Frisk, to their right, was turned away from Chara, and a wave of hesitation washed over them. _They can’t even face you in their sleep,_ the thoughts whispered snidely. 

Frisk, a beacon of light and hope for monster kind, adored by everyone around them. Frisk, who has done so much good already in their young life, while Chara just tagged along, leeching off of Frisk’s good will like the loathsome parasite they were.

 _You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve THEM. You don’t deserve to be ALIVE,_ their mind sneers at them, and all Chara can do is bite their tongue and screw up their eyes in hopes that tears don’t slip out. They don’t argue back. They can’t argue back anymore, because it’s all _true_

They had killed themselves, they had gotten their brother killed, they had tried to kill countless others. They should have STAYED dead and forgotten and should never have been given a second chance.

_They’re all just lying to you. They’re all just pretending they want you around to keep you under control. To make sure you stay calm and happy._

These thoughts aren’t fair, and Chara _knows_ they aren’t fair, but they can’t help but think them anyways. Taking a deep breath, they hold it, desperately trying to hold back their sobs, and wishing they could make themselves pass out from lack of air. Self-preservation kicks in and they breathe whether they want to or not. They glance at the clock again. 2:05 am. It was going to be a long night.

Quietly moaning in remorse, Chara turned to the sleeping figure beside them once again, and for a moment all the self-loathing evaporates form their body and gets replaced with… well, they can’t exactly say. Their mind isn’t at peace when they see Frisk, but it certainly feels calmer. Lighter too, as surges of adoration and gratitude temporarily block out everything else.

But just as quickly as they come, they’re washed away by grief and shame. They don’t deserve to be happy or forgiven when they’ve hurt people in the past, even if those people don’t remember.

Slowly, ever so slowly that they don’t even notice, their mind begins to generalize the self-hatred to things beyond their control, but Chara’s fallen so deep down in the endless spiral that even the most outrageous of thoughts become impossible to fight against.

_You don’t deserve to have a bed you didn’t earn when thousands of people sleep out in the cold. You don’t deserve to eat while millions of people are starving at this very minute. You don’t deserve to be happy when coutless people are suffering. You don’t-_

And be it some serendipitous coincidence or cosmic force, Frisk intervenes at that very moment. With a snort and a sneeze, they roll themselves over, left arm swinging blindly, yet also with 100% accuracy to smack Chara directly across the face.

Chara flinches in shock, turns to face their partner, but says nothing. Was Frisk awake? Had they somehow heard Chara’s thoughts and decided to (literally) slap them out of it?

Eyes wide and not daring to breathe, Chara waited to see what Frisk would do next.

Frisk pulls a face, probably feeling the hard impact they made to some degree, and drags their arm off Chara’s head, pulling it closer to themselves. For the briefest of moments their eyes open, bleary and unfocused, but undoubtedly looking at Chara.

And then- was it Chara’s imagination, or did Frisk’s lips twitch up into a smile? Their right hand clumsily flops across Chara’s torso, but the grip that follows is clearly intentional as Frisk pulls Chara close. They mumble something unintelligent into Chara’s shoulder before burying their face into Chara’s neck and letting out a sigh of utter bliss.

And this, for whatever reason, is what finally snaps Chara out of their mindset. They snort and then giggle, and then find themselves biting one of their knuckles to keep from laughing too loud and waking up Frisk. For, even when they were barely lucid, Frisk clearly wanted Chara by their side, and if this unguarded, unfiltered, most honest version of Frisk said this is where they belonged, who were they to argue? If Frisk wanted Chara, even here, even when Chara didn’t want themselves, then how could they ever think of Frisk not wanting them everywhere else?

It was silly of them to ever doubt, and it was nice to have sense slapped into them every once in a while when they couldn’t see it for themselves.

Reassured and knowing what was true once more, Chara turned into Frisk’s embrace, adding to it with a hug of their own, and finally settled into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking back, I realize my last three fics have all had really sad undertones. I promise the fourth one will be heavier on the fluff. I'll also try to post it sooner since this one was so short. I've been trying to get these out at least once a month, but when I'm only writing roughly only one page of a fic a day in order to build consistent daily writing habits, I find that it takes a very long time to write even a short story to completion. So, after the next once shot is up, there may be a bigger break between chapters because, well, they just ain't written yet chief. 
> 
> (I know now writing fan fic this way as my new years resolution wasn't the best idea, but it's either this or not write at all because I can't stay motivated otherwise. God, I wish I had learned better time management skills is school)


	5. Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara and Frisk go on a picnic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warnings include; cavity risk due to excessive sweetness between characters, hotflashes due too extra warm-and-fuzzy feelings, and chest pains from too much compassion and admiration between the subjects in text. Please consult your doctor, and check to see if fluff fics are a recomended part of your daily diet before proceeding.

It was a beautiful, temperate day in the middle of March, warm enough that it was juuuust on the side of uncomfortably hot, but with adequate clouds passing over head so one didn’t have to squint as they took sight of the vibrant green nature growing all around them.

Frisk quickened their pace on the nature trail. It was a lovely day for a picnic. Dare they say, it was perfect. Most of the non-dedicated New Year’s resolution makers had given up their daily walks at this particular park as soon as valentine’s day had hit, and most of the serious promise keepers had either already finished their quota before the sun made the trails too hot, or would come later in the evening after they had cooled.

The only people Frisk truly had to worry about were the hobbyist bikers and teens playing hooky, but so far the greenway had been perfectly quiet and undisturbed. Not that Frisk thought they’d have much of a problem with other folk in such a public place on a weekday. Besides, the spot Frisk was headed to was well away from the main path, hidden even from the off road hikers and trail blazers.

Frisk straightened up when they spied a particular tree with a funny bend in its lowest branch. It was one of their markers that indicated when they needed to divulge from the main road. They skipped over to it, excited.

“Hurry up, slowpoke!” They called over their shoulder at Chara, who was lagging behind.

“What’s the rush?” Chara shot back, perfectly content to just amble beneath the trees, admiring their bright green buds of new growth. “Is this super special picnic spot gonna get up and walk away?”

“No, but it might blow away if we don’t hurry!” Frisk teased.

Chara gave Frisk a quizzical look. “That makes even less sense than what I said.”

“You’ll understand when we get there!” Frisk explained, no less cryptic than their previous statement. “This is where we have to forge our own path!”

Hefting up the basket in one arm and a blanket in the other, Frisk plunged into the bracken with reckless abandon. Chara followed after, more than slightly dubious. “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” They ask.

“Sure I’m sure! I made certain I memorized the route, like, a month ago. Woah!”

Chara froze and held their breath as Frisk stumbled over the uneven terrain. The plant matter was so thick here, not even something as faint as a deer trail could guide them.

“This looks like a great way to roll your ankle,” Chara muttered, cautiously picking their path after Frisk.

“Yeah, the first bit is a little annoying, but it’ll get better once we get to the stream,” Frisk reassured. “C’mon, it’s just up ahead.”

Chara kept their mouth shut and concentrated on the ground in from of them to make sure they wouldn't stumble, while Frisk bumbled along ahead. How Frisk knew the way to where they were going, Chara would never guess. To them, each boulder looked identical, each bush the same as the last. But despite all their characteristic griping, they trusted Frisk’s guidance and kept pace, the fear of getting lost never once crossing their mind.

It feels like they’ve walked a hundred miles when Frisk suddenly stops short at the crest of another hill.

“We’re here!” Frisk exclaims, practically dancing as they hop from foot to foot. How they still have the energy after trudging through the thicket _and_ lugging around the basket and blanket, while Chara feels like their lungs are about to collapse, Chara would never know.

“About… time…” they heave, ready to drop where they stand.

There’s a break in the trees up ahead. The sudden sight of the blue sky though the branches suggest a clearing not too far off. Frisk makes a bee-line for it.

“C’mon! Come see!” Frisk encourages them. “You’re gonna love it, I know you will!”

With their last bit of stamina, Chara climbs the hill to join their other half. “Alright, what’s so special about th-”

The sentence dies in their mouth as they reach the summit of the small rise, their eyes widening in wonder.

The land before them gently slopes downward into a tiny meadow about the size of a football field. It’s not perfectly round, but it is oddly flat like a dish. But that’s not the strange thing about it. From end to end, the field is jam packed with dandelions, perfectly round and sparklingly white, as if a cloud had fallen straight out of the sky.

“Surprise!” Frisk beamed, before skipping through the weeds towards the center of the patch. Dandelion puffs shake loose and gently rise into the air in their wake, drifting away like glitter in the wind.

Chara traces Frisk steps with utmost caution as not to disrupt any more seeds. This place was breathtakingly surreal. It felt like a crime to intrude on something so magical, like they were trespassing in a dream, and any disturbance would wake them up, shattering the illusion.

“This can’t be real,” Chara whispered, still staring wide eyed in every direction. “How did you find such a place?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Frisk cocked their head proudly as they unfurled the blanket, the gust it created dispersing hundreds of dandelion seeds airborne in a swirling flurry of stars. “I made it!”

“You _made_ it?” Chara repeated in disbelief. “How?”

“Well, do you remember last spring when the soccer fields flooded and the remaining games that season had to be cancelled?”

“Oh yeah,” Chara pulled a face. “The landscapers couldn’t do anything until the water level receded, and the place practically became a marsh for a month. Shows them for excavating a field in a spot two feet lower than the land surrounding it.”

“Yeah, well, one day I was walking a dog from one of my house sitting gigs, and we passed the fields, and I noticed it was covered in a bunch of yellow flowers.” Chara winces at that particular description, and Frisk hastily amends. “But I quickly realized that those were dandelion weeds! I knew that they’d get mowed down within a week, so one day after work, I went back to the field and picked as many as I could.”

“So I’m guessing that means you planted them here,” Chara deduced. “Well, then how did you find _this_ spot?”

“Another dog walking incident!” Frisk boasts. “A sight hound I was walking on this nature trail saw a rabbit and suddenly bolted. Tore the leash right out of my hand. Man those guys can really run! I spent nearly two hours chasing him through the woods, but lucky for me, it led me here!”

“How long have you been planning this?” Chara asked, amazed.

“Oh, about six months or so. Dandelions grow fast, but I wanted to make sure I could plant seeds all over, and make sure none of them ever got too tall. I actually found the meadow before I got the dandelion idea, but I suppose you could say the whole thing was serendipitous.”

Chara nodded, gazing around them in appreciation. They admired how much work went into this.

Frisk sat down on the blanket, leaned back, and picked two dandelions. They passed one to Chara.

“Make a wish!”

Chara took the dandelion in their hand with great delicateness and stared at it blankly, all thoughts escaping them.

“I… don’t know what to wish for,” they openly admit to Frisk.

“Hm. I have a few ideas. Maybe I can inspire you.” Frisk closed their eyes. “I wish… I could go on a picnic with my favorite person in the whole world.” 

They took a deep breath and gave their dandelion a slow blow, scattering half the seeds from the puff.

“Hey, you can’t wish for things that are currently happening!” Chara protested.

“Why not?” Frisk smirked.

“Because-! It’s against the rules or something! I don’t know! You just can’t!”

“Oh? I didn’t know dandelion wishes had rules,” Frisk teased. 

“Well, yeah! They do! And you have to blow all the seeds off in one blow, or else the wish doesn’t come true.” Chara nodded with a sarcastically snobby air. “Also, you can’t same them out loud, or they won’t come true that way either.”

“I thought there was only limits on _what_ you could wish for, not how you make them. And I thought that second thing only applied to birthday candles.”

“It’s a general guideline for all wishes, I think.’” Chara shrugs. “Better safe than sorry, you know?”

“Hm, in that case…” Frisk reached out and plucked another dandelion. Closing their eyes, they muttered something under their breath and blew the dandelion as hard as they could.

Frisk cracked an eye open and found themselves holding a bare stem.

“Oh, good! That one’s gonna come true for sure, then!”

“What’d you wish for?”

“I thought you said you aren’t supposed to say them out loud?”

“Well, you already made the wish, so now it’s safe.”

“Jeez! There are too many guidelines for dandelion wishes.” Frisk shook their head, smiling. “So, it’s a good thing I wished that all wishing rules would be suspended for the next twenty-four hours! Now I can make wishes however I want!”

“You can’t!” Chara laughed in good nature. “That’s cheating!”

“No, it’s a loophole!” Frisk countered, chuckling back. It was fun pretending to argue over such superfluous things like it was a serious court case. It made them feel like a kid again. “My wish already came true! I can feel the magic working as we speak!”

“Alright, Sneaky McSmarty-Pants,” Chara giggled. “In that case, I wish for a sandwich. I’m starving after clamoring over all those rocks to get here.”

“Wish granted!” Frisk proclaimed, opening the basket and pulling out the food. Their picnic consisted mostly of snacks bought from their favorite monster shops to support the local businesses; a sub sandwich from the five star MTT restaurant, mozzarella sticks and dipping sauce from Grillby’s appetizer sampler, crab apples from Gerson’s stall at the farmer’s market, and a liter of spider cider from Muffet’s café to wash it all down.

The pair sat in silence, munching on their food, content enough just to enjoy the other’s presence without need for conversation. They continued to make wishes whenever one came to their mind, or just when they wanted to put more seeds in the air to watch them dance on the breeze. 

“I wish… to write a best-selling book one day.”

“I wish… to learn how to play an instrument.” 

“I wish to learn how to paint.”

“Ooh, me too. And grow a cool afro, like Bob Ross. I also wish to learn how to sew, and create fashion line tailored to monsters!”

"I'm afraid Mettaton already beat you to the punch on that one, Frisk."

"Oh, that's right, ha ha. Okay, then I wish Mettaton would hire me so I can leech off his fame."

"You freed an entire race that had been trapped underground for centuries! You're already famous!"

"Oh yeah, I did do that, didn't I? Guess it must've slipped my mind!"

As time went on, though, their wishes became less about actual desires, and more about saying the most ridiculous thing to see who could make the other laugh loudest.

“I wish… to pet a million dogs! At the same time!”

“I wish… to fold a giant paper air plane and use it to fly across the country!”

“I wish I could cartwheel across the ocean!”

“I wish I could get a pogo stick and jump to the moon!”

Slowly but surely, all the snacks were eaten, the meadow began to clear, and the sun began to set. By the time the sky became streaked with oranges and reds with sunset, the meadow was almost completely bare. Chara glanced around and sighed in dismay.

“Oh…” they said sadly. “This little clearing was so beautiful when we got here… and now it’s practically empty.” A shadow crossed their face. “I can’t help but feel like we ruined it.”

“Don’t worry,” Frisk reassured them. “All the seeds we dispersed will take root here, and in a month, our little picnic spot will be ready again for more wish making. They might even spread farther than the meadow next time we come back!”

“True. Guess we should start packing up to go home, then?” Chara asked, getting to their feet.

“Not yet!” Frisk said. “Dandelions aren’t the only things you can make wishes on, and-” They pull out a small white box from the bottom of the basket, and open the lid to reveal a half dozen chocolate cupcakes. “We haven’t had desert yet!”

Chara immediately sat back down at the prospect of chocolate. Frisk pulled out two cupcakes, but pulled back before Chara could take one.

“Wait, I’m not done yet,” they hint, before reaching back in the basket to pull out two small birthday candles and a lighter.

Frisk stuck a candle securely into each cupcake, lit their wicks, and then finally handed one to their other half.

“Make a wish!” They smile.

“Jeez, I think I’m pretty much all wished out,” Chara admits, staring at the tiny flame. They contemplate for a bit, before the perfect idea hits them. They take a breath and concentrate.

 _‘I wish for Frisk to succeed at all that they do,’_ they think as hard as they can before blowing out the candle.

“What’d you wish for?” Frisk asks.

“Can’t tell. I definitely want this one to come true, so I won’t take any chances, even with your wish loophole still active.”

“Ooh, must be serious,” Frisk smiles before turning to their own cupcake. “In that case, I’m doing the same.”

 _‘I wish for all of Chara’s wishes to come true,’_ Frisk thinks, before blowing out their candle.

The two ate their cupcakes in the growing dusk, leaning against each other and admiring the fireflies that had come out to flit along the edge of the trees. Two more wishes and confections later, it was finally decided they should make their way back to the main trail before it got too dark to navigate the woods.

The last of the sunlight was just retiring for the night when they return to the parking lot and get to their car.

“Oh! Chara, look!” Frisk says suddenly, pointing to the sky after they’ve got their seat belts on. Chara follows their finger to find the first star of the evening shinning high in the nighttime air.

“Starlight, star bright?” Chara chants.

“First star I see tonight!” Frisk finishes. “Last wish of the day! Make it count!”

“I wish… that we could do this again real soon.” Chara decides. “Today was one of the best days I think I’ve ever had, thanks to you.”

Frisk beamed, barely able to contain their joy.

“What a coincidence! That’s my wish too!” they laugh.

“Well then we’re in luck,” Chara smiled, settling in for the drive home. They place their hand over Frisk's on the arm rest between them, and Frisk turns their wrist to lace their fingers. Smiling, they gently squeeze their partner's hand, loving and warm. “Now I just now it’s going to come true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *sees a dandelion growing in my backyard one morning*  
> Me, Internally: "... I can write a fic out of that."
> 
> Aaand that's all I wrote (for now, anyway). Dunno when the next short will come out. I've got, like, 5 or six more prompts in mind, but I gotta actually sit down and write them. So! Stick around, but don't hold your breath! maybe check back in a couple months. I don't expect to have the next one ready for several weeks at this rate. Thanks for reading! Stay tuned!


	6. Egg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara goes on an Easter egg hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *sees half a plastic easter egg in some garbage on the street*  
> Me (internally): I could write a fic about that...
> 
> While I don't really have a planned order for these shorts to be posted in, I had been working on one for a while that just wasn't coming out the way I wanted. I said to myself. "it's okay, just move on to the next one." and wouldn't you know it, I wrote this in the span of 4 hours and typed it in two. Fuck spell check, we post fics like men and commit seppuku on our grammar mistakes like the honorable warriors we are.
> 
> EDIT: Forgot the additional tags warning. For this chapter, I don't really think there are any, aside from one sentence vaguely referencing past traumas.

Chara was not a religious person, though on the whole, they chose to follow a Live and Let Live mentality. They didn’t get care if someone reflexively said “bless you” when they sneezed, and they didn’t get offended when someone wished them a Merry Christmas. They would admit they got irritated over the over commercialization of the holidays, but that anger stemmed from their distaste in capitalism rather than the holidays themselves.

Yet despite all this, they couldn’t fathom why they woke up to find a pink plastic Easter egg in their bed one morning, especially considering Easter had been months ago.

Chara stared down at the egg in a mixture of suspicion and bewilderment. On one hand, the egg could not have put itself there on its own. The fact it was placed so obviously on the pillow beside their own meant that this had been a deliberate act. Whoever had put the egg there (and let’s be honest, there was only one person who logistically _could_ have put the egg there without the help of space-time hopping shenanigans) had _wanted_ Chara to find it. This then led to Chara’s second question– _why???_

Sitting up, Chara grabbed the plastic egg and cracked it in half, and in doing so, Chara discovered two things- one being a singular chocolate kiss, and the other a small hand written note on a folded piece of paper. 

Without a shred of embarrassment or shame, Chara immediately unwrapped the kiss and popped it in their mouth, not even caring that it was barely past 8am which most self-respecting people would consider “too early” for sweets. They unfolded the note and found a small poem written on it.

_Good morning, Chara!_  
_Here’s a kiss t **o** start your day,_  
_And a sca **v** enger hunt for you to play._  
_A sweet r **e** ward awaits for you,_  
_Search the kitchen for your **n** ext clue!_

Chara glared at the note, as if hoping their death stare would get it to spill its secrets. What was the point of this? Today wasn’t their birthday or any holiday as far as Chara was aware. Crap, was it an anniversary of some sort? No… No, if that had been the case, Frisk would have been excitedly counting down the days, making it impossible for Chara to ignore.

Realizing the only way they’d find out for sure would be to actually play along, Chara decided to get out of bed and go down stairs as instructed.

A quick preliminary glance into the den and dining room show them no obvious clues in sight. Come to think of it, nothing looked out of place. What’s more, Frisk was nowhere to be seen. Now that was odd. It wasn’t a school day and Frisk didn’t have work this early in the morning. Where were they?

“Frisk?” Chara called out. They were met with only silence. 

Shaking off the creeping feeling that prickled at the back of their neck, Chara began to search the kitchen. There were no plastic eggs in plain sight, so they started opening the cupboards and in the cabinets beneath the counters, but were met with no results. Confused, they checked the sink and even inside the fridge, but still found nothing. 

Thoroughly stuck, they looked back at their first note. It _had_ said “kitchen”, right?

Unfolding the paper, they inspected the clue again, noticing something odd about the handwriting. A few of the letters were thicker and darker than the rest, clearly written with more pressure applied to the paper. On a hunch, Chara read the letters out loud.

“O... V… E… N. Oven.”

Eyeing the oven, Chara opened its door, and like magic, the internal light flicked on, illuminating a green plastic egg in the center of the top rack.

Chara hummed, pleased at their puzzle solving skills, and cracked open the egg. A fun-sized bag of mini M&Ms along with another note fell into their hand. The note read;

_M &M **s** melt in your mouth and not in your hand,_  
_They could melt in an oven, but that’s n **o** t the plan._  
_The living room is where you’ll **f** ind your next hint,_  
_in a pl **a** ce reserved for lost coins and lint._

Chara’s feet were already moving to the next room before they finished reading the note, fairly certain they knew where the next clue would be.

Popping M&Ms into their mouth one at a time, Chara spied the loveseat and couch that sectioned off the room, wise to the bolded letters. They knew their next egg had to be between the cushions of one of them. Even without the extra hint, the little rhyme made it kind of obvious.

Dusting their fingers free of crumbs, Chara tackled the couch first, carefully shifting the throw pillows aside and removing the cushions one at a time. They found several lost pencils, an old double A battery, the DVD remote and a pair of reading glasses in the process, but no Easter egg.

They snort in mild annoyance and replace the pillows, then move on to the loveseat. This time they yank the cushions off carelessly, but still find no egg. What? But… the note had said “Sofa”, right? 

Now slightly desperate, Chara wedged their hand into the gap between the seat’s base and side, feeling along the narrow space. Directly in the center, they brush against something large and smooth, and successfully pull out a purple plastic egg.

They break it open before they even bother to put the cushions back and reveal a mini Twix bar and another folded scrap of paper. Chewing over the new candy, they read their next clue.

_BeTWIXed and between, you’ve found your prize!_  
_Your next one is guarded by mismatched eyes._  
_In her lair, the beast doth sleep,_  
_And only those brave enough will have treasure to reap._

Chara cracked a smile, unable to resist. There were no bolded letters in this note, but they knew exactly where to go. After they reset the loveseat’s pillows, Chara made a bee-line to the pantry where a certain cat would be found in her bed.

It had been a surprise to Frisk and Chara both, Chara thought back, learning that all cats were born with blue eyes that changed around two months of age. Felicity had been a special case, adopting only one green eye while the other remained blue, but Chara and Frisk still loved her all the same.

Chara found the black cat curled up in her bed as promised, a blue Easter egg practically hidden beneath her belly flab. She squinted up at Chara as they approached, and let out a loud purr.

“Good morning to you, too,” Chara cooed, bending down to pet her before noticing pale green flecks on her bedding.

Chara stifled a gasp. Catnip. An irresistible drug to all mousers to heighten their playfulness and no doubt used on Felicity to make her stay in place long enough for Chara to find her. But dare Chara risk their fingers retrieving the egg from their intoxicated feline? 

As if sensing their dilemma, Felicity let out a small chirp and rolled over, exposing the egg and her belly- a clear invitation for pets.

Tentatively, Chara reached in for the egg. The tiny black panther watched with wide, unblinking eyes.

“Good kitty. Easy does it…” Chara whispered, almost there. And just as their fingers brushed the plastic, the little predator sprung like a Venus fly trap, snatching Chara’s hand with her front paws and delivering several death kicks with her rear ones.

“Oh noooo!” Chara played along as the cat gently mouthed their thumb with her teeth before licking their fingers. “I’ve been slain by the fierce black dragon. The mighty huntress has made another successful kill.”

Chara congratulated her with a few loving pats, which Felicity promptly groomed away, and Chara quickly snatched the egg in her distraction. Back in the kitchen they open the egg to find a fun-sized kit-kat and, of course, another note.

Chara ate the chocolate in two bites and read the next clue.

_Some tit-for-tat (or rath **e** r, kit-for- **c** at?)_  
_for surviving the **p** revious barrag **e**._  
_I’m **s** tarting to run out **o** f rhymes._  
_Your next c **l** ue is in **t** he garag **e**._

Chara chuckled under their breath. At least Frisk was honest, and they hated to admit it, but they liked all these silly little puns. They made their way to the garage, slowing as they approached the door. The bolded letters were back, but they didn’t make sense…

“Ecpesolte”? That wasn’t a word. Unless… wait, was it scrambled?

Pausing, Chara backtracked to the kitchen to grab a pen. In the blank space on the back of the note, they wrote out the letters and started to rearrange them. 

“Closet”? No, there wasn’t a closet in the garage… “Poles?” “steel?” Maybe, but those both left out too many letters. They kept trying. “Sleep”… “scope”…. Wait! That was it! “Telescope”! They had a hand-me-down one from Sans hanging on the wall in their garage!

Filled with self-satisfaction, Chara practically skipped to the garage and flicked on the light. The space was a mess like always, and Chara had to cautiously pick their way through discarded boxes of junk, haphazardly stashed sports gear, and abandoned exercise equipment left forgotten where they feel to get to where the telescope was mounted on the wall.

Only when they’re inches away from the telescope do they wonder “how the hell do you hide and Easter egg on that?”, but one quick glace reveals a yellow egg tucked in the dew shield just out of their line of sight. 

Triumphant, they break the egg and are rewarded with a tiny milkyway bar and another note. 

_‘Jeez, how many are there?’_ Chara thought, slightly unnerved at how long this game had already gone on for. Blinking, they shake the notion from their mind. They could take on every puzzle thrown at them. Bring it on.

Chara unfolded the note. It read;

_A teles **c** ope to see the st **a** rs,_  
_The milkyway holds mos **t** of ours._  
_your next hin **t** is also up high,_  
_Cl **i** mb as close as you can to the sky._

Chara headed back into the house, fairly confident that the bolded letters this time were supposed to spell “attic” and was not, in fact, instruction to go visit their monster friend, Catti. All the other clues had been inside the house, and besides, Chara had a feeling Frisk wouldn’t want them to travel across town just to ask their friend to carry them on their shoulders for a small piece of chocolate.

Climbing the stairs two at a time, Chara reached the top floor in a matter of seconds. They study the ceiling, and tug on the chain that lowered the dropdown ladder to the attic. Ugh, they always hated going here. It was too small and dark and smelled like dust, which made them remember unpleasant things. Chara suppressed a shiver. The puzzles might not be getting harder, but their locations were starting too.

Gathering courage, Chara slowly climbed the steps towards the darkness. They were getting close to the end now, they could feel it. No way they could give up after coming so far.

To their relief, the next egg is just at the top of the steps in plain sight. Grabbing it, they scurry back down the ladder and shove the trapdoor closed. Breathing a sigh of relief that it was over and done with, Chara opened their next prize. Out came a mini 3 musketeers and, as always, another note. It read;

_Small spaces and h **e** ights are a common **f** ear,_  
_But n **o** t for you, my **b** rave musketeer!_  
_The next egg you’l **l** fin **d** in the exact r **e** verse,_  
_be one **w** ith natu **r** e, to keep it terse._

Racing down the stairs, Chara scampered to the back door. This one was easy! Several months ago, Chara had taken it upon themselves to turn their entire back yard into a garden, growing their own fruits and vegetables to save money. They found it rather therapeutic to care for plants, knowing they could create something that could be helpful to others. No wonder Asgore loved it so much. Chara could spend hours delicately weeding and pruning and tending their crops, content in knowing they could bring something positive into existence. 

The next egg, they knew, would not be amongst the vegetable patch, though, for in addition to growing food, Chara also grew flowers for their beauty and for fun. Chara didn’t even have to think too hard to know the next scrambled word had been “flower bed”.

Still barefoot and in their PJs, Chara slid open the glass door and stepped into the back yard. They tiptoed through the shoots and sprouts to the flower beds that lined the fences. Meticulously they scan the poppies and lavender, searching for anything out of place or unorderly. They find the culprit amongst the daffodils- a single stray flower pot conspicuously turned upside down. Chara lifted it up and struck gold- another egg just as yellow as the flowers around it.

Cautiously stepping back through the beds, Chara headed inside to open their find. To their surprise they were greeted with not one, but three tiny recess peanut butter cups along with the next clue. The note read;

_For kids, recess is the best part of the day,_  
_A break from the classrooms and school work to play._  
_head to the ground floor bathroom after your fun,_  
_Wash off the dirt because you’re almost done!_

Chara’s heart began to beat a bit faster in excitement. The scavenger hunt was almost over and they were getting close to finding out what this was all about. They could feel it.

There weren’t any bolded letters in this note, but Chara’s body buzzed with determination. The bathroom wasn’t that big, after all. They’d find the last egg even if they had to tear the whole room apart.

Eating the recess to free up their hands, Chara got to work. The bottom floor bathroom only had a sink and toilet. Not very many places to stash an egg. 

They started with the sink first, opening the medicine cabinet and expecting the egg to fall out. They’re more shocked when it doesn’t, and they search beneath the sink instead. In the cabinet below, they riffle through the toilet paper rolls, folded hand towels, and bottles of cleaner, only to come up empty handed. They turn to the corner of the room, hesitantly peering in the waste basket and beneath the plunger. Still nothing.

Chara’s heart skipped a beat. There was only one place left to look. No. Did Frisk really-?

Chara eyed the toilet and dubiously opened the lid. To their relief (and also disappointment) the bowl was empty save for the toilet water. 

However, a sticky note stuck to the underside of the lid revealed itself, reading;

_You’re on **t** he right tr **a** ck! **K** eep looki **n** g!_

Chara smirked, solving the puzzle at once. They let the toilet cover drop and lifted the lid of the water tank behind it. And there, sealed in a clear plastic baggie, floated the last egg.

They tear into it at once, and a snickers bar falls at their feet along with the final note;

_Toilet humor gives everyone snickers,_  
_What is there funnier than fart jokes and knickers?_  
_You’ve solved all the riddles! Congratulations on winning!_  
_for the grand prize, head back to the beginning!_

__Chara looked up the stairs. Back to the beginning. The bedroom._ _

__Grinning as they ate their chocolate, Chara bounded up the steps one final time, knowing exactly what they would find awaiting them._ _

__Turning the knob of their bedroom door, Chara entered the room to find Frisk sitting cross-legged on the bed with a large bowl full of candy in their lap._ _

__“Surprise!” They beam. “You did it! Good job!”_ _

__Laughing, Chara hopped on the bed and sat beside them. “That was an amusing little adventure,” They said, reaching in the bowl to grab more chocolate. “But I still haven’t figured it out- what’s the occasion?”_ _

__“Oh, no reason,” Frisk said nonchalantly, eating some candy. “One day I started thinking of chocolate puns and things kinda spiraled out of control.”_ _

__“Really? You did all this for me just because you could?”_ _

__“Yep! I thought it would be fun!”_ _

__“Yeah, I gotta admit it was a lot of fun,” Chara smiled, snacking on more kit-kats. “I can’t believe you bought all this chocolate just for me.”_ _

__“Well you can’t buy fun-sized candy in individual pieces,” Frisk chuckled. “And bold of you to assume this is all for you! We’re sharing it!”_ _

__“Okay, okay, that’s fair,” Chara conceded. “How long did it take you to come up with all of this?”_ _

__“Only a couple of days,” Frisk shrugged. “Coming up with the puns was easy enough, but they rhymes took some work. And, of course, hiding all the eggs without looking suspicious. Actually, the hardest part was just _finding_ enough Easter eggs to begin with. They practically don’t exist when they’re out of season!”_ _

__“Well you’ll be glad to know I highly appreciated the effort,” Chara said. “They were all really well hidden. The toilet egg was especially crafty of you. Or should I say… _crappy_.”_ _

__The two share a laugh and eat more candy. Before long, Chara speaks again._ _

__“That reminds me- where were _you_ all morning?”_ _

__“In the closet,” Frisk said, nodding to it. “I hid in there with the bowl until I heard you go out back, then came out when I knew you were in the bathroom downstairs.”_ _

__“Frisk, I am so proud of you for coming out of the closet,” Chara joked. “And all for me!”_ _

__“Only ‘cause you’re so _sweet_ to me~!” Frisk joked back, handing Chara a chocolate kiss._ _

__Flustered and flattered, Chara could only laugh._ _

__Playfully, the two flick candy wrappers at each other, telling bad puns all the while, and eating nothing but chocolate and sugar for the rest of the morning._ _


	7. Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara dissociates in a Target and then they go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Gee, you sure do love to give Chara all the divergent behaviors, don't you. Why not give some of those to Frisk so they can balance each other out?  
> Also Me: nO. Project ON To CHARA. gIVe CHARA all the neurodivergent beHAviors!
> 
> (It's still halloween in my timezone, which means it's still October, which means this still counts for Charisktober even though it's not for any prompt in particular. Enjoy)

There were many pros to being an adult; eating junk food whenever you want, no curfews, no school, and no homework to name a few. But there were also plenty of cons with adulthood; house bills, having to buy all your own necessities, water bills, driving in traffic, phone bills, awkward office social gatherings, cable bills, heating bills, taxes, and bills came to mind.

But the one thing Chara probably despised above all else when it came to adult tendencies was shopping for home décor.

Of all the strange and ludicrous constructs society had formed, the need to buy and own Things was one of the most confounding to them. No matter how hard they tried, they didn’t get it. What was the purpose of buying plates if you weren’t supposed to eat off of them? Just to look at?? Then why plates of all things instead of a photo or a painting?? What was the point of spending an exorbitant amount of money on a couch or a carpet, when pre-owned furniture from the thrift store worked just as well? Because the colors complemented the room?? Who cared if all your cups were plastic and didn’t match? They were still perfectly good cups even if they weren’t part of a set, _and_ they were less likely to break if they were bumped off a counter.

Besides, didn’t people understand that wanting and owning Things was risky? If you liked or grew attached to something, it could be used against you. Someone could threaten to damage it or take it away unless you did as they said. The fewer things you valued, the fewer bargaining chips others could hold over you.

Material possessions were ridiculous, in Chara’s opinion. And yet, here they were, shopping with Frisk in a Super Target, sitting on a shoe bench in utter boredom while their other half browsed their selection of living room curtains.

The day for curtain shopping had been a long time coming, ever since their pet cat was old enough to start testing the limits of her natural feline abilities, including, but not limited to, running in and out of rooms at top speed, jumping to and from alarming heights, and using her claws like crampons to scale the window curtains, ultimately tearing them to shreds. (Thank you, Felicity. Your parents are very proud of your athleticism, but they’d appreciate it a lot more if you used the $100 scratching post they bought for you instead of the drapes, honey.)

Chara sighed, obsessively flicking through the same three apps on their phone over and over, as if expecting one of them to magically hold their attention _this_ around. Kakuro> Nah, they couldn’t focus enough to do the math. Color by Number? Not in the mood. Duolingo? No, fuck that smug-ass owl for constantly pointing out that they sucked at conjugating verbs.

Frustrated, Chara put their phone down and glanced around their vicinity. This Super Target was their fourth store of the day, after hunting through a Walmart, Macy’s and Sears beforehand, but what had been a hopeful, optimistic start for Chara had now completely left them drained and detached. All the stores were beginning to blend together with their same harsh, florescent lighting, same frigid air conditioning and same droning music that made Chara’s head feel stuffed with cotton while simultaneously buzzed like TV static. Silently they prayed Frisk would find a suitable set of curtains soon so they could finally go home.

It had been a mistake, they realize in hindsight, agreeing to accompany Frisk on their errand when they knew deep in their heart they didn’t want to go. But Frisk had always joined Chara on any outing _they_ had initiated in the past, so it had only seemed fair to offer the same courtesy every now and again. Besides, they liked spending time with Frisk. Wasn’t this just the same thing, but in a different setting?

Speaking of Frisk, Chara shifted their gaze a bit and watched Frisk from the corner of their eye. Unlike them, Frisk WAS passionate about interior design and the presentation of one’s home, to which Chara begrudgingly appreciated because it was thanks to their eye for such things that the pair had a dwelling that avoided looking like a total frat house. 

Frisk had tried to explain it once, how colors and designs were “harmonious” and how matching décor gave a room “order”. They had even gone through all the different styles; minimalist, contemporary, transitional, rustic to name a few. And Chara had tried to pay attention, to follow along and learn something that their partner cared about because they cared about their partner, but when Frisk started listing off trends like “urban modern”, “mid-century modern”, “modern farmhouse”, and “modern country”, Chara’s eyes inadvertently glazed over, and they had to tap out, the minute differences completely lost on them.

“I’m not sure which color I’m leaning towards,” Frisk said half to themselves as they compared two potential packs of curtains. “I was thinking either beige or cream, but this faun color might go better with the baseboards. Though now that I think about it, Felicity’s fur is going to stick out like a stain on any of these if she rubs up against them. Black curtains are out of the question, though. They’d trap in heat like an oven during the summer…”

Chara closed their eyes and tried to focus on Frisk’s idle chatter, but it was difficult in such a sterile environment. They could swear they could _hear_ the freaking lights overhead and their high-pitched electrical shriek. Suppressing a groan, Chara straightened up, inhaled deep, exhaled slow, rubbed their neck…

“Chara?”

Chara blinked and turned their attention to Frisk who was watching them expectantly. Uh-oh, they knew that look. Frisk had asked them a question and was waiting for an answer.

“Oh, uh, yeah sure. Whatever you think is best,” they said, hoping that sufficed as an answer.

“You didn’t hear me at all, did you?” Frisk said patiently. “I asked you what time it was.”

“Oh,” Chara flushed and looked at their phone. “It’s 2:27.”

“Good, we’ve still got time.”

“Time? For what?”

“Oh, I was just saying I couldn’t really find anything I liked here. Most of these curtains aren’t long enough or aren’t thick enough. I was thinking we could hop on over to Bed, Bath and Beyond next before it gets too late in the afternoon. What do you think?”

Impulsively, Chara forced a smile on their face and nodded in agreement. Sure. They could handle it. It was just one more store and wasn’t like they’d been doing this for hours already anyway. No sweat. No problem. Just one more, just like Walmart and Sears and Macy’s had all been “just one more.”

Anxiously, Chara picked at a loose thread on their jeans, their leg bouncing in agitation. They hoped Frisk didn’t notice the tick.

“Alright. I’m gonna do one more pass down this isle before I decide.”

“Sounds good,” Chara said with forced enthusiasm, then slumped with their head in their hands as soon as Frisk’s back was turned. 

_Ugh_ , why did shopping in department stores have to be so _tedious?_ Online shopping was so simple and convenient these days! Most sites even offered same day delivery! None of this hassle of driving in traffic, fighting for parking spaces, wandering aimlessly down isles, interacting with strangers, _hoping_ to find what you’re looking for, only to learn it’s out of stock. When you shopped on line, you never had to leave the comfort of your own home. You could even do it without pants! No cashier would ever know! 

That’s not to say Chara didn’t see the value of buying things in retail. Finding what you needed in stores allowed you to assess the quality in person and was often cheaper without shipping fees. Online shopping was just easier all around, in Chara’s opinion, and would always be their shopping method of choice.

The only acceptation to this shopping preference Chara would allow was when it came to groceries- but then again all the rules were different when it came to food.

More often than not, Chara had a plan when they went grocery shopping. They knew what they were looking for going in, and approximately where everything was, so it was more like a scavenger hunt tracking down each ingredient, with the knowledge that they’d be turning it into something better (and edible!) later down the line. And when they made a shopping list, Chara could roughly estimate the time they would need to be in and out of the store, allowing them to mentally prepare for the excursion beforehand. But shopping for home décor like this? With no plan? No goal? It was torture. Four shops searched and they _still_ hadn’t found anything suitable by Frisk’s standards, and by the sound of it, they were about to add a fifth to that list, with no guarantee that it would be the last stop they’d make today. The whole endeavor already felt like it had lasted an eternity, but now time itself seemed to be coming to a halt to drag it out even longer.

Biting back a whine, Chara shoved their phone in their pocket and rubbed their temples.

_’Hang in there,’_ Chara said to themselves. _’You don’t even have to contribute. Just hang in there for Frisk. They’re always helping you when you need a ride somewhere or to buy ingredients for new recipes. It’s the least you can do to help them look for curtains. You said you would, now you’ve got to commit.’_

Chara massaged their head a little harder, their pep talk doing nothing to rid them of the static noise that was slowly creeping back into their brain.

_God_ , why were the florescent lights so freaking _bright?_ Chara squinted up at the bright lights, their vision swimming, unable to comprehend how just tagging along with Frisk’s shopping trip could leave them so exhausted. The AC in this building certainly didn’t help. They swore they could just about see their breath! And that music, droning on and on _and on,_ they felt like their brains were leaking out of their skull, their soul detaching from their body, drifting, floating, drowning-

“Hey,”

Chara jumped when a hesitant hand brushed their shoulder, lurching them back into reality. They snap their head up and meet Frisk’s worried gaze.

“You feeling alright?” They asked, concerned.

Instinctively, Chara opened their mouth to say they were fine, not to worry about them, that it’s nothing, but when they look into Frisk’s eyes, they find their unable to brush it off. They can’t do this anymore. They just want to _go home_ …

“Actually… N-no. I’m starting to feel nauseated,” Chara admitted. “This… atmosphere is starting to get under my skin.”

“Oh, sorry,” Frisk fidgeted. “I should have been paying more attention to you. I was so distracted, I completely forgot you don’t like long shopping trips.”

Chara closed their eyes so Frisk couldn’t see them rolling. What an annoying habit of theirs- for Frisk to apologize for Chara’s shortcomings even though it wasn’t their fault in the slightest. Chara couldn’t stand it almost as much as they could stand this shopping trip.

“No, Frisk, I’m sorry. I… _wanted_ to help you find something nice for the house, and I really did try in the first couple of stores, but we just kept going on and on and I tried to stay focused, but shopping is just so draining when you don’t know what you’re looking for or how long it’s going to take, and I think I’ve reached my limit.”

“Hey, I appreciate you wanting to help, but you don’t have to force yourself outside of your comfort zone for my sake.”

“But you’re always ready to help me, Frisk,” Chara argued. “No matter where I need to go or what I need to get, you’re ready to help at the drop of the hat. It’s the least I could do to be moral support for you, too. Even if it’s something as mundane as curtains.”

“True, but you forget one of the main reasons I do all those things for you is because I’m the only one with a driver’s license between us.” Frisk reminded them. “Chara, we both know you’re an introvert. It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable going out to do shopping, even if it’s for something as small as curtains.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Of course not! Why would I be?”

“But you didn’t find any curtains, did you? And now you have to end your shopping trip early because I wanted to throw in the towel.”

“Pssh, the stores aren’t going anywhere,” Frisk pointed out. “We could try again on a different day if you’re feeling up to it. Or hey! Better yet, you can help me pick out something online. That’s something we can both do! Bed Bath and Beyond has a website, right? I bet we can even find some online coupons. What do you say?”

A warm, sincere smile spread slowly across Chara’s face, more grateful for Frisk’s understanding than words could express.

“Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

Out of reflex, Frisk offered a hand to Chara as they got up, and Chara took it out of habit.

“Thanks, Frisk. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Frisk hummed in agreement, and together, hand and hand, they headed home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This meme sums up me (and Chara) in a nutshell whenever I enter a Target and is what basically inspired me to write this short: https://i.redd.it/dqlsglakq3r21.jpg
> 
> (Also, this is a real curtain fic now, lol)


End file.
